Page 25 of Beauty Becomes You (Beauty 4)
There were no boundaries on what he would do for her. He would climb mountains, slay dragons—but all she’d ever asked of him was a promise. And so he had always been hers, before he’d even known it, stumbled upon in moment’s base weakness, claimed by a whole-hearted acceptance, and made new by a love he would work to deserve each coming day.
THE END
Thank you!
Thank you for reading Beauty Becomes You! I hope you enjoyed Blake and Erin’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
I very much appreciate anything you can do to spread the word, including leaving a review or sharing this book through Amazon’s lending program.
Yours,
Skye Warren
BELOW THE BELT
"...what an absolutely dynamite heroine" - Rage, Sex & Teddy Bears
Martial arts champion Abe Montgomery is dead-set on winning gold at Nationals. Paris Rivera has sworn off men and martial arts. When these two meet, the chemistry is explosive.
Abe may dominate on the mats, but he's fallen hard for Paris. The fight of his life looms ahead, not only for his dreams but for the sexy woman he soon can't live without.
"This book is sweet and spicy! Romance written in a realistic way. No fairy tale endings. No promises that can't be kept. Just straight up emotion and honesty." - Have You Heard Book Reviews
Excerpt from BELOW THE BELT:
Abe ran his hands down her sides, accustoming her body to his touch. He tasted her skin up and down the side of her neck—kissing, licking, nipping, and then starting over again.
She threaded her fingers through his hair, lightly tugging, sending pleasurable shocks through his body. He palmed her breast in appreciation, gently squeezing the warm weight. Her soft sounds drove him crazy. Go slow, go slow.
She reached down and cupped his erection through his pants. He drew in a sharp breath. He loved that she’d come out of her shell, but if she touched him now it was over.
He pushed her hand away. “No, not yet. Let me take care of you.”
To prove his point, he ran his hand to the bottom of her dress, then up, tracing his fingertips along her bare leg. He groaned when he reached the thin wet strip of her panties—a thong. Pulling the fabric aside, he stroked his fingers through her intimate folds. She bucked and gasped as if he’d shocked her. But he felt the shock in his fingertips, and his cock.
He pushed his thumb through her dampness until he found her clit, fondling her without the finesse he had learned so carefully. This whole thing was moving too quickly, almost outside his control, and he was only grateful that she seemed to be keeping up.
He shoved his fingers inside her like he wanted to do with his cock. Pressing against her clit with his thumb, he tacitly asked her to come. His hands were too rough. He was acting like a big, clumsy idiot, but she bucked up against his hand, seeking more. She panted, tightening her body. Then she came. She tightened around him, but he was watching her face in awe, as wetness coated his fingers.
When the last of the aftershocks had rocked her body, he withdrew his fingers, then pulled her in close and held her to him. He breathed in the fresh, feminine scent of her, holding back his own release to allow her time to recover. Despite his throbbing arousal, Abe found pleasure in just holding her.
“Who are you, really?” she whispered.
“I’m no one,” he murmured, his face buried in her silky soft hair. “No one special.” It was the truth. He’d grown up too poor and too stupid to be anyone. No matter how hard he fought, he was just another loser from Podunk, Nowhere.
“Oh yeah?” she challenged softly. “A two time national medalist and forerunner for the male heavyweight competition is nobody?”
Abe lifted his head.
“Yeah, I recognized you,” she said.
She didn’t understand. It wouldn’t be enough. Not any of it, not ever. His throat tight, he gave a short shake of his head.
“Oh, Abe,” she said. God, what was that look in her eyes? He wanted to look away from it, but he couldn’t. “You’re someone special. I see it.”
The line wouldn’t come—the one that would make this whole conversation a joke, instead of the truth. He always laughed it off, or fought it off, no matter what came.
Not this time.
